How you know you're getting old reason 3,000,526

Grease.  I love that film.  Even though I look back on it now and sort of think, "wait, you mean this wasn't made in the 50s?" it is still legendary.  You had song.  You had dance.  You had an Australian who wasn't wrestling crocodiles.  It was just cool.

And yet we've now lost a second member of the cast.

I went to Catholic school too!

The full story can be found here: First Kenickie, now Cha Cha: Grease star Annette Charles dies at 63

Hand jive isn't masturbation?  Oops.

Kenickie and Cha Cha.  The one with the bad temper and the whore.  Gosh, it's literally like parts of me have died (literally... he he).

I remember when people like Moses died and my mother said things like, "I remember his first role.  It was some work with the Jews or something."  And I would think to myself, "People you know are dead?!?  You are so freaking old.  No wonder you smell of piss."

(Note- my mom doesn't smell of urine.  She is young and beautiful and has an appealing aroma of garlic and lavender.  Hi Mom!)

But these days I know the dead people.  And I've crossed over a second threshold where I don't know the alive people.  Okay, I know tons of live people.  I just mean I don't know the youngest alive people who are in our popular culture.  

The other day there was an iPad commercial with some young tart and I said, "Who the hell is that? How is this a good marketing campaign when I don't even know who that is?"

Both my husband and my daughter said almost simultaneously, "That's iCarly!"  Now before you think my husband is some pervert, he is of the parenting school that allows children to be in the same room with you and choose what they want to watch on television.  So he has been subjected to iCarly numerous times.  I come from the school of the kids will get to watch what they want over my dead body, cause I paid for this tv, this couch you're sitting on, the massive Time Warner Cable bill and the very air you breath is subsidized by my tax dollars.  Yeah, our school tshirts were nightshirts just so we could fit the whole name on them.

So I'm now in this no woman's land where the people I know and love are buying the farm, and there's all these young, talentless, perky boobed robots who are getting more air time than all the legends of Hollywood combined. It's like we're all marching towards a cliff and I've just seen Cha Cha hand jive (not masturbate) right over the edge.  My turn is next, and that goddamned iCarly is pushing me.  That bitch.  

I'll shove that iPad right down your throat before you push me over the...  Geronimooooooooooooo!